This Chapter 22 is the last chapter of a novel about slavery and gay sex.
Keywords: authority, control, loyalty, slavery, punishment, re-training, submission, gay, sex
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The Dahran Way
Chapter 22 The importance of mercy
Jerzy Zarchewicz
A wide-eyed David Tuttle arrived at the Bank, having been collected by Jack and Faisal at the airport in the limousine. Jack was overjoyed to see his cousin and vice versa. They were chatting thirteen to the dozen.
When he arrived from the airport, full of smiles, David said `Sir Jonathan, I don't know what to say. When I went to collect my tickets as your fax said, it was for the New Concorde. I told them it must be a mistake and I wouldn't be able to pay that type of prices. But they said it was all paid for. The same at the tailors and the shoemakers. I also collected the packet you wanted from Taspells, the jewellers.'
He was so excited; there was no stopping him.
Jack was just looking at his cousin and laughing.
`Now, David, it is my turn to laugh at you. You'll get used to Uncle Jonathan's very strange ways of doing things.'
Business at the Bank was almost over, so we headed home to the Lime Palace giving David the longer scenic route on the way back on the western road. He was agog at the development of the capital city, the architecture, some bridge that had appeared in an engineering magazine, the city planning and layout. To each his own, I thought.
As we finally got out onto the road proper, David Tuttle asked the question that I knew he would have to sooner or later.
`Sir Jonathan, you have not said what your project is?
`I want you to help me build a large property, David, based on, or rather copied from, where I live at the moment. I have two modest Palaces side by side and I want you to build me a third.'
David looked at me and then at Jack and then back at me again to see where he had missed the joke.
Sir Jonathan, did you say Palaces' in the plural and you want a third.'
`Yes. I live at the Lime Palace. For the moment, Jack, here, lives with Fiona at the Aloe Palace. But I need another to be built on its own land. I am already calling it the Lemon Palace. It will be about a hundred thousand square feet with outhouses, buildings, compounds, etc. It will keep you busy for certainly a year and a half to two years.'
David's mouth had dropped open. Jack was laughing at his surprise and leaned over and with a finger pushed his chin up and closed his mouth.
`Sir, what is the budget for this, may I ask?'
`About thirty million euro, I hope, but that will include the sports facilities and the swimming pool.'
`Olympic sized,' Jack chimed in with a smile.
David was quiet for the remainder of the journey. I put my hand on his at one stage, smiled and said `Don't worry, David, my lad. You will have every help. Annan and Annan, the architects in the capital, will help you. And the odd night you can tell me all about it.'
There was wonder in David's eyes and laughter in Jack's.
Faisal dropped David and myself off first at the Lime Palace, before continuing on to the Aloe Palace with Jack, who would return later with Fiona for dinner together.
As usual, Food and Drink were in the courtyard waiting for my arrival, together with Zoran and Jan whom I had training with them for the past week to be body slaves to David.
David's face was a picture when he stepped out of the limousine and saw four naked men waiting for us.
Food and Drink no longer really pranced, now that they had become assistant overseers. They moved quickly and, with grace born out of years of practice on others and on myself, took my briefcase and papers.
`Welcome home, Master.'
Zoran and Jan echoed the greeting, but made no move to come forward.
`David, welcome to my home, the Lime Palace. These are my slaves, Food and Drink, and these two, Zoran and Jan will be your body slaves while you are here. I do apologise for not telling you that slavery exists in Dahra. There is no way to explain it to strangers, other than have them plunge in at the deep end.'
`Zoran, Jan, this is Master David, my guest. You will serve him as you serve me.'
The two slaves came forward, knelt down and kissed David's feet and still on their knees kissed his hand. If he had been hit with a crowbar, he could not have appeared more stunned.
Faisal by this time had two suitcases and a haversack out of the boot of the car and the two body slaves rose and took the luggage.
`I see that you will need a little time to take it all in David. I think a long cooling shower will help you relax before dinner.'
I said in Arabic, to Food and Drink, `make sure that his body slaves, not you two, but his body slaves, make him relax at least twice.'
Food and Drink smiled hugely. They were clearly enjoying their newfound status as assistant overseers.
When his friend and lover, Marek, was killed by the raiding attackers from the north, I feared for Jerzy. He was in shock, cradling the head of his dead friend when I saw him in the slave quarters that early morning. Ricochets are not supposed to kill the people you love, but one had killed his lover.
Stan, my property overseer, had taken him in hand and under his wing. Stan told me that they were not quite lovers yet and stressed the yet' bit, but I am very, very fond of him and when he wants a quiet fuck, I oblige as best I can.'
`I thought you and Wik had a thing going for each other,' I commented.
`Oh, we do, Boss, but Wik has a low sex drive, while mine needs daily exercise and at times, more than once a day,' Stan smiled back.
I think `quiet' would indeed have been the word that I would have used to describe Jerzy. Nacho Cuesta, our eye doctor, had taken a bit of an interest in him for some months, but has since gone back to living a busy professional life treating the slaves.
`Quiet' was the one word, which described the former Polish waiter to a tee. Jerzy went about the grounds quietly, about the Palaces quietly as he noted things to be done. He quietly went about his life. Also, I had never known him to ask for anything. I even had Ben Trant check his file to see, if apart from wanting Marek as his buddy, he had ever made a request for anything.
The investigators of the Buddy Foundation had not been able to find any family of his in Poland, so we created a playground, as it was the custom in such instances, in the primary school, which he had attended.
It was therefore a little bit of a surprise when I found Stan and himself queuing up to see me after dinner one evening, as slaves are wont to do, normally requesting changes of buddy for the following month.
When it was their turn, Stan merely stood back and while slaves normally stand at `rest' when making a request Jerzy knelt down and kissed my feet. I looked to Stan for a hint, but none was forthcoming.
When he had straightened up sitting back on his hunkers, he said, `Master, I want to ask for mercy.'
I looked at him, the quality of his spoken Arabic surprising me -- in the evenings we speak Arabic -- and again looked at Stan, who revealed nothing in his glance.
`Mercy, Jerzy? I don't understand. You don't need mercy from me. I know you. I love you, not just as a slave, but as a friend like so many others here.'
`Mercy not for me, Master, but for those on the water-wheels.'
Time stood still in the courtyard. The five, who were on the water-wheels were the attackers, who had raided the Lime Palace and killed his lover. They had been condemned to slavery in my ownership by the Sheik himself. When I die, they would die the following day. Their punishment with me for the rest of their lives, since their assignment to me by the Dahran courts for punishment, was to tread five of the eight water-wheels on the estate and on the date each month corresponding to Marek's death, they received thirty two strokes of a camel-cane.
`What precisely do you want, Jerzy? And more importantly have you thought it through?'
`Master, it has taken me all this time to get over Marek's death. I don't want to live the rest of my life hating these attackers and being angry with them for killing my lover.'
It was the first time that he had ever mentioned in my presence that Marek was his lover.
`Yes, Master, I have thought it through. Just have mercy on them and assign them other duties. Nothing else.'
`Do you want them not to be caned either each month?' -- they were getting thirty two strokes once a month on the date of Marek's death.
`No more caning, Master.'
`And for yourself, Jerzy.'
Nothing, Master. I have all that I want,' and he looked back at Stan and smiled, who gave me a funny smile and waggled his eyebrows up and down, as if to say there you have it'.
I knelt down beside Jerzy and hugged him.
`Jerzy, you have a beautiful soul to be able to forgive so much. I would have left them there another five years, at least. I'll have them taken off the wheels one at a time over the next five weeks and put into training in the compounds at the Lemon Palace. In that way they won't disturb the training programmes in place. But they are murderers and like all new slaves to the Lemon Palace, I will have them half-gelded. Each will lose a ball.'
Jerzy smiled and laughed a little, `I think, I think, Master, that Marek would have liked that. Each of them will lose something precious just as I have lost something precious in Marek.'
I looked at Jerzy and thought that in all of us at times there are hidden depths. In retrospect, I think that this was one of my better decisions in all my time in Dahra. Hate and anger are poor friends.
When I told Rob Kuiper and Niko Ziel that they would be getting one of the water-wheel slaves per week for training over the following weeks so as not to interrupt the inflow of EU prisoner slaves, I said, `if you flog them half-way round the compounds and back again, I won't lose any sleep.'
Rob looked at Niko and then said, `Boss, they will be treated like all trainees being processed. They'll get their fair share of flogging.'
And I thought that he might have emphasised the `fair' bit, a little more than the rest. But it might have been my imagination.
`When each one is finished with the training, each is to be brought to Jerzy for assignment as their overseer,' I said.
Stan told me afterwards that when each arrived for work to be assigned to them, there was little likeness to the slave, who had been on a water-wheel for months on end and that the first thing Jerzy did in each case was to beckon them and have them follow him out to Marek's grave. If they did not understand what was going on and where they were going, they did when Jerzy left some flowers that he would collect on the way on his lover's grave.
One thing, which did happen with Jerzy and his five former water-wheel slaves was to put each of them, with Komil's permission, on a clean up job of the Lemon Palace grounds for three months, clearing debris and surface rocks and if Komil was short a slave for a particular job, he was able to call on Jerzy.
Jerzy housed his five water-wheel slaves at the Lemon Palace and since none of the other slaves was volunteering to be their buddies, Jerzy assigned the two youngest to the next two youngest and the oldest of the five, who had, in fact, been the ringleader of the entire group, had the early morning duty of sucking off his four co-conspirators and in the evening of offering his ass to each of the four each night before they bunked with their assigned buddy.
Every time I think of mercy and its importance, I think of Jerzy Zarchewicz. Even though many of the ways of Dahra are strange to the outsider and particular to the slave, certain great and basic qualities remain to surprise us all and I think one of these is mercy. For me, at least, mercy also forms part of that list of important matters, which constitute the Dahran way of doing things, at least at my Palaces.
End of chapter 22
The End
The third and final novel -- The Dahran Rebuttals - of this second trilogy of The Dahran Stories will be serialised in late March 2004.
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I would like to take this opportunity to thank the many readers who have emailed me during the course of presenting The Dahran Way over Nifty and YahooGroups.
The fact that the storyline is both gay and erotic is merely the medium to the ultimate end -- the telling of the story. That readers have enjoyed the story -- and have said so to me -- is the greatest compliment that I, as storyteller and author, can receive.
Thank you.
Gerry Taylor